


The World Didn't End, So Let's Get Drunk

by ranguvar82



Series: Silence and Strength [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: It's one year since the World Failed to End. Aziraphale decides the best course of action is dinner and drinks. Shenanigans, as they say, ensue.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Series: Silence and Strength [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630903
Comments: 18
Kudos: 156





	The World Didn't End, So Let's Get Drunk

The World Didn’t End, So Let’s Get Drunk

Aziraphale has been planning something. Crowley knows he’s been planning something, and Aziraphale knows that Crowley knows he’s been planning something. His angel gets a look in his eyes when he’s scheming. Someone, but Crowley loves him for it. ‘What are you up to, dove?’ Aziraphale tries and fails to look guileless.

“Why ever would you think I was up to something, Star Maker?” The mischievous glint in his blue eyes is stronger, and Crowley bravely resists the urge to kiss him senseless. Instead, he gives his angel a Look. “Only, I was thinking. It’s been a year since..well, you know.”

‘Nope-aggedon?’ Aziraphale rolls his eyes.

“Yes, exactly. And I was thinking...well, so many people helped us, and we haven’t had a chance to thank them properly, so...”

‘You want to send thank you cards?’

Aziraphale huffs, glaring at the smirking demon. “No, Crowley, I was thinking of writing to them and inviting them over for dinner and drinks.” He pauses. “Lots of drinks.”

Crowley grins. ‘So I take it this invite would not include Adam and the Them?’ Aziraphale shakes his head.

“Not this time. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have them, and they’d get on splendid with Warlock, but I think just the adults for now.” Crowley grins. “And no, that does not give you carte blanche to skip out by claiming you are not an adult.” Crowley’s face falls. “You’ll be fine, my love. I promise, if you get overwhelmed at any point, I’ll be here. You know that.”

‘I know. Aziraphale?’

“Yes?”

‘I love you.’

Aziraphale leans in and kisses Crowley. “I love you too, my Star Maker.”

JASMINE COTTAGE

“Hey, ‘Thema! We’ve got mail!” Newt walks into the kitchen, holding a large envelope. Anathema is sitting at the counter, poring over a recipe book. “Whatcha cooking?”

Anathema pours flour into a measuring cup. “Pancakes!” She looks up, noticing the envelope. “What’s that?”

“Dunno. Return address is the South Downs. Really fancy handwriting. Looks like copperplate.” Newt rips open the envelope. “Looks like an invitation.”

Anathema pulls it towards her. “ ‘Dear Anathema Device, Last Descendant of Agnes Nutter, and Newton Pulsifier, Ex-Witchfinder Private, you are cordially invited for drinks and dinner on the fifteenth of this month to celebrate the Not End of the World, which you had a hand in not ending. Please bring a bottle of DECENT liquor. Yours sincerely, Aziraphale, Former Angel of the Eastern Gate of Eden and Protector.’ Well. I guess we’d better go shopping for some booze. The fifteenth is tomorrow.”

Newt blinks in surprise. “We’re going?!”

Anathema nods. “Do you want to find out what happens if you decline the invitation of a real life angel?”Newt ponders this, then shakes his head. “Me neither.”

In a small apartment in London, a fortune teller who is also a sometime sex worker has received a similar invitation(with a scrawled note that she ‘can bring that idiot Shadwell if you must’). Tracy grins before going over to see the Sergeant. “Mr. Shadwell, you home?” They have yet to officially move in together, and once in a while Tracy likes her space.

“What do ye want, Jezebel?”

“We got a lovely invite from Mr. Aziraphale to come to dinner at his house.”

“Wot makes ye think I want to see that Southern Pansy?”

Tracy pats him on the arm. “Now, come on. I’d like to go, and you know you’d be miserable shuffling around without me. Do it for me, love.” Shadwell sighs in exasperation.

“Fine, but I’m doin’ it under protest.”

“Of course, dear.”

“Table cloth. Check. Plates. Check. Glasses. Check. Cat on the...Treble, off!” Aziraphale glares at Treble. “Now I know the real reason that lovely snake named you Treble. Because it rhymes with Rebel.” Treble mews and jumps off the table, rubbing against Aziraphale’s legs. “Darling, I am quite busy. Go find Quiet Daddy. I do believe he is being a snake right now.” Treble mews in excitement and scampers off. “Now, where was I? Roast is in the oven, potatoes are scrubbed and ready, we’ve got the booze, and...” the doorbell rings, and Aziraphale yelps. “Oh goodness! Crowley! They’re here!”

Crowley comes slithering into the dining room, all fifty feet of him, and Aziraphale nearly chokes on his laughter when he sees Treble riding on his back, looking like, well, the cat that got the cream. He manages to get himself under some semblance of control. “My dear, please change. I would like to cultivate a friendship with these mortals, and I doubt I’ll be able to do that if you are a fifty foot snake.”

Crowley turns and gently nudges Treble, who hops down. The snake melts into the demon, and he grins at Aziraphale. ‘Better?’ Treble jumps into his arms, then onto his shoulders.

“Much. You have your pad and pen?” Crowley produces them. “Excellent. Right, well, I’d better get the door.”

Anathema and Newt are first, and Aziraphale gushes over their bottle of fifty year old Scotch. “Oh, wonderful! Please, come in! Now, as we didn’t formally introduce ourselves last we met, I believe that should be remedied. I am Aziraphale, Former Guardian of Eden, and Protector. This is Crowley, the Demon of Silence and Serpent of Eden. And that bundle of fur is our cat, Treble. He’s new.”

Anathema shakes Aziraphale’s hand. “It’s uh...very nice to formally meet you.” She sticks out her hand to Crowley, who shakes his head and steps back. “I...do demons not shake hands?”

Aziraphale smiles gently at her. “Crowley is extremely touch averse. You may wave to him, or curtsey.”

Anathema nods in understanding, then waves. “It’s nice to meet you, Crowley.” He nods, pointing at her. She smiles, then elbows Newt, who has been gaping at this, hard. “Say hello, stupid.”

“HI!” He squeaks, and Crowley grins.

Shadwell and Tracy arrive a few moments later. Crowley greets the former with extreme ill grace, glaring at him with fangs bared before Aziraphale sternly tells him to let it go. Crowley snarls once more. “Crowley...”

‘Fine, Angel. I’ll behave.’

“Oh, thank you so much.” Aziraphale’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. Crowley has to restrain himself from jumping on him and snogging the breath from his lungs. Somebody, but his angel is so fucking sexy when he’s being the Bastard. “Dinner’s all ready, everyone, so if you’ll all follow me.”

Dinner is, of course, an enormous success, and after everyone is sated they all gather in the parlor, booze and glasses at the ready. Aziraphale opens a very nice brandy, pouring them each a generous portion. “Right. So, before we get too plastered, here’s the...deal, as I believe the saying goes. You can ask us anything, and we’ll answer it as best as we can. But don’t go broadcasting it to anyone else. Clear?” The humans nod, and Aziraphale downs his drink. “Oh, and don’t try to keep up with us. You’ll be dead of alcohol poisoning.” Another series of nods. “Well...let’s get the ball bouncing!”

‘Rolling, Angel. Ball rolling.’

“Yes, that.”

Anathema asks the first question. “So...how did you guys meet?”

Aziraphale sighs. “You mean the first or second time? First was in Heaven. Crowley, though he wasn’t called Crowley then and no I am not telling you his Name, that’s for him to reveal, was taking a break from Singing the Stars...”

“Singing the Stars?” Newt interrupts, and Crowley clenches his fists before writing a note and passing it over. “I used to be the Angel of Song. Now shut up and let my angel talk.” Newt gulps, nodding.

Aziraphale continues. “I was...not in a very good mood. He made me smile, and I fell in love. Which was very unusual, as he was a Seraph and I was a Principality. Different Tiers, you see. We spent so much time out in space together, while he Sung the Galaxies to being, and one day he asked me to Bond with him.” He turns to Anathema. “You can see auras, right?” She nods. “Look at ours, tell me what you see.”

Anathema obeys, then gasps. “OH! It’s like...a ribbon of light, but the light is two different colors combined into one. It’s...it’s beautiful.”

“A Bond once made can never be Undone. It’s...well, marriage.”

Tracy speaks up. “Oh, isn’t that lovely. Mr. Crowley is your husband!”

“In mortal terms, yes. Except when she’s my wife or they’re my partner. But what we truly are...no Earth tongue can come close. The best translation, and even this is a VERY loose one, is ‘The one that holds my Heart in their own.’ And even that doesn’t fully convey the depth.” Aziraphale takes a breath. “We were...for so long in Heaven, we were happy. We were in love. Someone, were we in love! Then...Crowley was...Cast Out. His Voice was ripped from him, and I...was forced to forget. The second time we met, he was a demon, and I..I didn’t know him.”

Crowley hands a piece of paper to Anathema, nodding at her to read. “It nearly ripped my soul out, knowing that my Love didn’t know me. I wanted so to tell him, but I couldn’t.” Anathema gulps. “Oh, Crowley.”

Aziraphale pours more brandy, gulping it down. “Well. Any other questions?”

As the night progresses and the inhabitants get drunker, the questions get sillier and a bit more risque.

Anathema sways as she ponders her next question. Newt is passed out and snoring beside her, and Shadwell and Tracy are sprawled out on the floor, also snoring. “Zir...Azira..Angel, got a quession.”

“Ask an’ it’ll be ange...answr...I’ll tell.” Aziraphale hiccups.

“H’ve you an...Crowley ever...done it?” Anathema leans forward, eyes glinting. Aziraphale has to admit, this witch can hold her liquor, and she’s not afraid to ask the weird questions. They had spent twenty minutes talking about Atlantis. (“Knew the Angel who sank it,” Aziraphale had said, looking haunted. “Islington. Right mad bastard.”)

“Dun wot?”

“Y’know! Mushed your bodies togever. Made the...HIC! Excuse me. Made the beast with two backs, done the humpty-hump...”

Crowley falls off the couch, mouth open in a silent scream of laughter. Aziraphale blinks drunkenly at her. “My dear, are you perhaps asking if we’ve fucked?”

“Uh. Yesh.”

“Then jus’ come out an’ ask. An’ for the record...tha’s none of yer bus...not gonna answer that.” Anathema gives him a pleading look. “Tried it. Once. Messy. Not any point. Snuggling though. Nice. Kissing too. But not sex. ‘Sides, no equipment.” There’s a long silence, followed by the ringing of a clock. “Oh dear, i’s late. Better get goin.’ Wait...drunk. Not good to drive like that.” He snaps his fingers, and Anathema feels as though she’s been sucked through a straw.

“What was that?”

‘Instant sobriety. Go on, Book Girl, take your lizard and the others and get.’ Crowley smiles from the floor. ‘But come back. You’re a lot of fun to get drunk with.’

“Will do, and you can tell me more about Enochian sigils.”

After everyone has gone, Crowley turns to Aziraphale. ‘Well, that wasn’t terrible. Now, you said something earlier about snuggling?’

Aziraphale grins. “Race you to the bed.”


End file.
